Terms of Endearment
by Eisee does it
Summary: Megatron drafts a peace treaty to end the war. Poor Optimus didn't catch the fine print. Crack galore. Meg/Opt.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Terms of Endearment

Author: Eiseedoesit

Rating: M

Summary: Megatron drafts a peace treaty to end the war. Poor Optimus didn't catch the fine print. Crack galore. Meg/Opt.

A/N: I imagined G1 with a dash of TFP and Bayverse when I wrote this, but feel free to imagine the characters as you please, it is crack XD. Don't take it seriously folks, it's meant for laughs, nothing more ^_^

* * *

"Go over it. Again." Ironhide seethed, shoving the data pad on Prowl's chassis for the sixth time that hour, "We must have missed something. There has to be way for Prime to get out this…this mockery of a peace treaty!"

"You can go through every line, search between each letter and word, and put that pad through every scanner you can find," Megatron stood with his arms crossed, the wide smile on his frightful face as disturbing as they come, "The terms are quite clear."

"I can't believe we trusted a fragging con," Ratchet grabbed the data pad from a very bewildered Prowl and threw it right back at Megatron, "And their leader no less!"

"It isn't Lord Megatron's fault that you failed to detect the fine print detailing the conditions for peace," Shockwave said, his tone so flat and matter-of-fact it was almost insulting, "Nor is it Lord Megatron's fault that you were foolish enough to trust your supposed enemies. Nor is it his fault that your peace-hungry Prime signed himself away unknowingly."

"I'd scrap you and turn you into a trash compactor myself," Ratchet snapped back.

"Then a trash compactor I shall be. But it will not change the terms." Shockwave said. His sole optic glanced briefly at the discarded data pad, "You can destroy that all you want. We have multiple copies."

"Prime—" Magnus turned to their leader who was currently still in a state of shock, "You can't let this happen."

"Oh, he already did," Megatron said, extending his arms out in a mock show of an embrace, "Can't you read his own signature? I thought you would all be familiar with it. But if you need a reminder then let us oblige."

As it to emphasize it further, Soundwave projected an image of the data pad outwards, highlighting the Prime's signature right next to Megatron's.

"Alright," Magnus mumbled under his breath. He swung his hammer at his side, "Give the command Optimus and I'll bury this hammer straight between Megatron's legs."

"Attempt: unwise" Soundwave said, "Terms of treaty must have Lord Megatron intact."

"To Pit with your treaty!" Ironhide spat out. He aimed his canons at the cons, "We're leaving. All of us!"

"Stand down Ironhide." Optimus said. To everyone's surprise he actually stepped forward towards the Decepticon lord.

"But Sir—"

"Megatron," Optimus spoke up, finding the strength in his voice again, "Is there any way fulfillment of the terms can be delayed?"

"Dear Optimus, if you're asking for more time to find a loophole don't bother," The dark Con smirked, scanning the Prime's delectable body from pedal to helm, his gaze lingering at those wide hips and slim, slender waist, "The terms are as tight as your virgin valve. Which now belongs solely to me by the way, as written under the fourth subsection of the first article."

The Prime's optics darkened. Prowl clamped his servos over Bee's audios to protect the youngest bot, although the poor yellow mechling had heard enough of the terms to cry. Magnus and Ironhide both drew their weapons, flanking the sides of their leader. Ratchet meanwhile, was spewing out every vulgar phrase known to both Cybertronians and humans.

"That fragging subsection couldn't be read without a slagging micro-scanner. Why should our Prime be responsible for things he didn't sign for?"

"He signed that he read _all_ the terms," Megatron said, laughing like he was explaining the most obvious thing in the universe, "Including the clauses that mention a public bonding ceremony where dear Optimus displays complete submission to me in front of the Autobot and Decepticon hosts. Article one, subsection two."

"How about we just start right where we left off?" Ironhide proposed, his canon whirling and clicking into place, "With my canons right against your helm?"

"Now Optimus, I thought you had better honor than this," Megatron said, completely waving off the furious threats of the weapons specialist, "By all technicalities you and I are now betrothed."

"Since fragging when?" Ratchet demanded, "How in Primus' name did that happen?"

"Since he put a stylus on that contract and signed his name at the bottom," Shockwave answered, "As Soundwave mentioned it would be unwise to harm Lord Megatron. It would be a direct violation of the treaty. Should that happen, we are prepared to launch a crippling blow to your human allies on a scale unprecedented in their history. The logical course of action would be to submit to Decepticon rule."

"Like slag that's gonna happen. C'mon Prime let meh blast that arrogant smile right off Meg's face plates!"

The Prime was silent for a moment, as if truly considering the option of granting his troops their request for retaliation. To be honest he wanted nothing more than to smack Megatron right at the center of his smug face. But the treaty was hanging by a very thin, almost impossibly delicate thread. And he could not afford to lose what may very well be their last chance for a truce before their race drove itself to extinction.

"I have signed a legally binding contract," Optimus said, looking back at his mechs, all of their faces stunned by his admission, "I cannot retract my word, as ill-gotten as it may have been. I have terms to honor and duties to fulfill. It is the way of a Prime to—"

"Most excellent," Megatron cut into the middle of the speech. Not that it dampened the mood any. The bots were all half-way in denial as soon as Optimus mentioned he wouldn't go back on his word.

Optimus didn't give Megatron the satisfaction of seeing him beg. Instead he stood upright, ever noble as a Prime, and bowed courteously to the mech he tried to kill but a day ago.

"The preparations have already begun," Megatron announced, "I even have a few samples of the bridal ensemble you shall be wearing on the bonding ceremony Prime."

The color drained from Optimus' face plates as Thundercracker and Skywarp rushed in and opened several boxes up before him, each of them spilled out white silks, satins, and velvet.

"What?"

"This is an outrage! Don't let him insult you like this Optimus. Fragging Primus, you're the Prime for goodness sake!"

"Have you no respect at all Megatron, for the title of Prime? Not even a fragging bit?"

"I do," Megatron said, enjoying the horrified look plastered on Optimus' face as Thundercracker pulled up one of the dresses and waved it around, "I also wish to respect the culture of this pathetic species that Optimus loves so much. They have a custom, do they not? Where the submissive partner wears white upon their bonding ceremony to display purity? And have no fear, I made sure that the bridal entourage is complete, from the official presiding the ceremony to the drone cleaning up afterwards."

"You are insane," Optimus said. Skywarp dangled another dress in front of him. The Prime's face mask snapped up to quickly hide the blush spreading across his cheeks. The dress was deeply cut at the front, with long, revealing slits on the side of the skirt.

"As were you Prime, when you signed that treaty," Megatron replied, "But it matters very little. I suggest you read over the copy of the terms I shall send you. Including the requirement that you bear a sparkling as my heir."

Optimus swore that everyone could hear his tanks churn violently at suggestion. No, not a mere suggestion.

A requirement.

Oh Primus above, what did he just do?

TBC

A/N: Read and review please! Writing crack is hella fun XD.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you all kindly for the reviews, favs, and follows! Much appreciated indeed :)

2

"Personally, I kinda think he would look good in white. It sets well with the blue and red. The flowers are a bit much though but the veil is rather fetching."

"Lace and silk, human materials. Fragile but fashionable."

"There shall be flowers. Lots of flowers! Lilies and orchids all around them."

"No, put up some glass structures to reflect the light, perhaps a nice light blue glow to bathe the altar."

Ratchet stabbed the datapad harder as he wrote down the materials they needed to supply for the wedding, half the time wishing he could stab the Cons blabbering on about the preparations instead. It was ridiculous. Impossible. Crazy. And it was sickening how enthusiastic the Cons were about the upcoming bonding ceremony.

"Tell me again exactly why these…necessities are coming out of our budget?" Prowl asked. He didn't even look up, focusing on the extensive list of party supplies, potential venues, and give-away suggestions. He was currently sitting safely on a chair, rails up, medical line open for easy access just in case his processor blew out again. Unfortunately for the poor autobot, such crashes were increasing in frequency.

"It is the human tradition," Ratchet rolled his optics, annoyed by having to say explain it for what felt like the hundredth time, "For the 'bride's' family to shoulder the expenses of a bonding ceremony."

Prowl blinked, the hum of his cooling fans kicking up. Ratchet inched closer; paranoid that Prowl was on the verge of another processor meltdown.

"Logic doesn't follow," Prowl said flatly, drawing lines on the more atrocious ideas the Cons put out. Things like balloon animals, gratuitous drinking games, and a risqué bachelor party. Oh Primus. No. Nope. Never, "It is a stupid tradition. One that promotes unequal responsibilities for the bonding parties."

"This fiasco is an unequal as it can possibly get," Ratchet replied with a heavy sigh, "And our poor Prime must bear the price."

"NO! The cloths draping from the ceiling should be Decepticon purple, not that ghastly Autobot red!" Somewhere in the background Skywarp shrieked, his wings fluttering madly as he tried to wrestle the color samples from Thundercracker, who fairly enough managed to slap the other seeker.

"Shut up. Shut up all of you before I weld your liplates shut!" Ratchet slammed the datapad over the table, glaring at the stunned Decepticon officers fighting over the color wheel.

Shockwave casually peeled the color wheel from the two seekers, although he did quickly circle a purple shade that caught his optic, hoping the so called 'bride' would consider it.

"I believe such stress has been too demanding on all of us. A period of reprieve may be beneficial. But I must ask, where is Optimus? He has been gone for quite a while now.""

"Perhaps Lord Megatron has summoned him?"

"Please, don't," Prowl put a servo on his helm, "Please."

"Relax now, calm deep intakes. Think of tranquility and peace," Ratchet placed a comforting arm around Prowl's shoulders, coaching him through the waves of static and shock jumping erratically through his processor, "Think of crystal waters, rippling endlessly, cold and quiet and absolutely—"

"Look at the lingerie Knockout ordered for the bonding night!"

Thundercracker ran like a manic on high grade, the scanty piece of fabric crumpled in his clumsy servos. He jumped over boxes of party supplies, his laugh high and ecstatic as he caught the lacy panties that slipped out of the shimmering bodice.

"Look at it!"

The Con shoved the lingerie at Prowl's face, so much so that the panties brushed against the Autobot's rapidly falling faceplates.

"Look at it! Feel it! Isn't it luxurious? Do you think Lord Megatron would fancy Optimus in this?"

Skywarp yelped and yanked another piece of lingerie from Primus knows where and shoved that in Prowl's face as well.

"Or this? This one's got sparkles! And I think the underwear is edible too!"

In a single klik Prowl's face planted itself on the table, smoke and steam pouring out of the seams of his burning helm.

With a single swing of Ratchet's wrench, the seeker went down like a rock, joining Prowl's face on the table.

* * *

"I wish to have say in how my…our…sparkling will be raised. Since I'm expected to carry it, I should have that right at the very least." Optimus said, staring blankly out the window, down at the world he signed himself away to save.

Across from the small, rounded table, Megatron munched on an energon treat, seemingly amused by his 'bride's' concerns.

"But of course you shall, dear Prime," Megatron poured himself another glass, lifting up the drink to his smug smile, "And for clarification, it's sparklings, not sparkling. The terms were quite clear."

Optimus gulped, his nerves getting the best of him. Megatron sipped the energon slowly, his red optics fixed on the Prime all the while. He looked pleased…almost pleasured. Optimus shifted uncomfortably as he felt Megatron's gaze drift lower and lower. The Warlord licked the high grade clean from his lips as his hungry optics scanned Optimus' frame.

"Delicious."

Optimus quickly took a swing of his own glass, quickly regretting it when the harsh burn threatened to split his throat open. He coughed deeply, placing a servo over his liplates.

"So polite. So demure. I wonder if you are that way in all things, whether in business…" Megatron's digits played with the brim of his wine glass, his optics dark and calculating, "Or in pleasure."

"Do these meetings serve any real purpose other than to humiliate me further?" Optimus turned away.

His faceplates were hot, blushing furiously. He shouldn't allow this insane Warlord to treat him as such. But with his battle mask gone, weapons disabled, and armor downgraded to its basic form, there wasn't much he could put in between himself and Megatron. He felt exposed, vulnerable. Naked as the humans would say.

And the Decepticon's lingering gaze made him all the more conscious of that vulnerability. Megatron's optic ridges wiggled, his strong, massive thighs parting not-so subtly. Optimus quickly crossed his own legs in response.

"Why? There's no need to shy away," Megatron said. To Optimus' horror the Warlord shoved the table between them aside.

"Megatron!" Optimus scurried back, dragging his chair along with him. The red and blue mech's arms flailed wildly as he lost his balance, lunging forward to keep the chair from tumbling him back.

The silver mech rolled back his head and laughed, his voice deep and booming.

"In all our countless battles Prime, you were never this skittish. This easily excitable…"

"Slag you." Optimus seethed, "If it didn't breech the contract I would have already ripped your helm half open. Ripped your spike out right along with your processor and shove it up your aft."

"My, my, my, _my love_," Megatron teased, not the least bit perturbed, "How ever did you know how much I enjoy…as the humans say it…dirty talk? Though I admit it's more humorous than arousing at the moment. But with more practice I'm confident you will perform quiet well. And I intend for us to practice rather frequently."

The towering mech made large strides towards his intended, looming his massive form over the Prime. Optimus scurried backwards as fast as he could, the sensors along his frame flaring madly alive as Megatron suddenly bent his helm down, breathing slowly against the Prime's neck. Optimus grunted, quickly closing the gap between helm and shoulder to cease the warm sensations coursing along his neck cables.

Megatron saw the chance. As Optimus moved he quickly pressed his lip plates against the Prime's faceplates. Megatron smiled. They were burning. Melting.

"Stop it! Unhand me you sick—Umpff!" Optimus' optics shot wide open, flashing white as Megatron ate his words with a rough kiss. A thick, dark tongue pushed through the Prime's lips, the taste of high grade and sweetness flooding the sensors.

Megatron pushed even harder, gripping Optimus by the waist and grinding against him.

The Prime bit down. Hard. Megatron jolted back, nearly screaming from the pain. Optimus wrestled away from him, grabbed the empty wine glasses and swung them towards Megatron's face.

Megatron caught the Prime's arm in mid-swing, grimacing as he easily shook the glasses from Optimus' hold.

"Well now, my dear, dear, Optimus" The silver mech twisted the Prime's arms down to a submissive state. The Warlord smiled, licking his lips eagerly, "How ever did you find out that I prefer it rough?"

Optimus spat straight at Megatron's face.

He tore himself away from the mad mech's grasp long enough to grab the energon bottle, this time preparing to smash it across Megatron's face.

"Easy now my dear, this is all just a side effect of Mix-master's little concoction. Gets you easily riled up."

"What?" Optimus vented deeply, staring at the shattered wine glasses in shock.

"His early wedding gift to us," Megatron said casually, as plainly as if he was explaining the color of dirt, "Fertility potions. My glass was laced with additives to enhance virility. Your glass was laced with additives to make you enjoy that virility. I believe this is just a side effect of it. Soon you'll feel the more pleasurable benefits."

"Frag," Prime wiped his lip plates roughly, as if it could take back the potion he just ingested. The potion that was already working through his systems. Curses spewed freely from him, "Frag it all. You miserable glitch! Frag!"

Optimus' mouth hung wide open, his optics barely holding back his frustrated tears. Megatron laughed, the sound smooth and strangely sweet.

"By the time the potion hits its full effect dear Optimus…You will certainly be begging for exactly that."

TBC

A/N: Uh oh. Read and review fine folks! Please? ^_^


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